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Archive:Valgrad Threetrees
"Now, even gods are kept equal by bloody swords, knives, and words of power." Appearance The man is a Carthvulian, or Northman, made evident by his blonde hair and blue eyes. Not bearing the enormous girth that is conventional of his people, he is still a much muscled man. Valgrad Threetrees is a man of three parts The most obvious part is his armor. It is a catalog of heavy plate, clinking chain mail and leather. It is more comparable to the work of a vulture than the shining plates of a knight. It is a mish mash of colors. Insignignias overlap and conflict with each other. Valgrad is not a man out to make himself known. He just wants to survive. Not to say that there is a cost. Every step he makes lands with a thud. His hands do not move with the fine graces of a Kaldorei blade dancer. His movements are blunt and to the point. The second part of Valgrad is his scars. They nearly cover an entirety of his face, an awkward history of the life Valgrad has lived. There is a scar that twirls around his neck. Three jagged ones go from just below his right eye, across the bridge of his nose and to his top lips. The upper portion of his right ear is missing; it was not a smooth cut. The final part of Valgrad is his pose. His shoulder is not lowered, hunched over in a form of surrender. It is raised up straight. Valgrad’s blue eyes are not tired and worn out; they are a blue fire, full of conviction. For the many years of his life Valgrad has seen horrors, by both Gods and man. But he is still not yet ready to give up. He has a job to do. History From Birth to the Lich King's End Valgrad, son of Kern Chieftain and his wife Riona, brother to Turin and Kincald, was born 34 years ago. As the youngest son, he had much to prove. Although royalty was not restricted to those that came first but by talent, Turin had all but already secured his throne to Ornarch Village. Kincald had displayed his finesse with the merchants, opening up a dozen trade routes and multiplying Ornarch’s economy five hold. What was Valgrad’s gift? That was the one constant throughout his life. The question prodded him, forged his doubts, and led him into every profession available. Valgrad sought out the great mysteries of the runes, the mastery of the forge; he delved into managing farms and lands. Few of these things spoke to him. He found relish in being a blacksmith, but that was no job for the son of the chieftain. Reluctantly, Valgrad found his place with the sword. It was not that being a warrior was frowned upon by the Northmen; quite the contrary in fact, since they have to contend with rival tribes and clans, trolls and gods of the icy world. The Northman knew war as much as they know their bed. It was just that Kern already had Turin who was quite the formidable warrior. Valgrad would need to fight all the harder to earn the respect of his village. In his training, for the Chieftain was not going to send his son to battle without ensuring he was a greater warrior than the man to his left and right, Valgrad showed that he grasped the foundations with incredible ease. He learned the footwork, when to raise his shield and when to throw his spear. Valgrad was a quick learner in swordplay. It was unknown on if this was some inborn talent, since Valgrad was the son of Kern (a talented warrior in his own right) and the brother of Turin, or if it was because it was Valgrad’s grandfather, Kincaid that was his teacher. During this time, Valgrad had a flame with a girl his age named Riorach. The two were attracted to each other more due to their similarities than anything else. Both chose the warrior’s path, and both had the pressure of success constantly rearing its ugly head. Riorach was the daughter of a War Mistress; an elite warrior woman. They found solace in each other. His first battle was when he was seventeen. He was part of a raid on the village of Utherk: Utherk had pressed two far on their borders and Ornarch was going to show them what happens in such a scenario. The night before the battle, Valgrad painted a picture of him returning triumphantly from the battle. He would in a move that required boldness and quick thinking make his mark in history. The trials of his life would finally come to an end. He did not dream that he grow coward and flee in the middle of the fight. It was run or die as he saw it. This would shame him for the rest of his life. To be a coward in the Northman society was to paint yourself as a defector: a marked man, cursed, spat upon and never to be trusted. Valgrad knew that he could never return home. He did not make fanciful dreams of him being the prodigal son and all being forgiven by his father. There would be no welcomed reunions: only a reckoning. Valgrad was forever apart from Ornarch. He became a hired sword, working for whatever mercenary company he could find. He travelled throughout all of Northrend, going from clan to tribe, employer to crime lord. He reveled in the underworld; he laid with woman, smoked on strange weeds. It was all a way for him to fill in the void of his shame. Even if his body’s heat joined with that of others in the night, he still felt cold before he slept. That which he had asked for was redemption, the one thing which he knew he could never find. In an ironic twist of fate the damnation of Northrend would end up being the salvation Valgrad so eagerly desired. With the rise of the Scourge the need for aid was immediate. Valgrad apprehended a ship and sailed south. He knew that this…Lich King came from the south. He did not know exactly where he was going; but he was as good of a sailor as any other Northman. And that was goo enough. It was two years ago when Valgrad arrived at the Eastern Kingdoms, on the shores of the Wetlands. In his journeys he encountered those that, fascinated with meeting a man from Northrend, managed to teach him to read and write. Valgrad was a quick learner. For two years he fought for the Alliance, fighting the Legion, the Scourge in the Plaguelands, the Silithid…wherever his blade was needed he went. All so that he could return home with an army at his back. A year ago that day finally happened. Both the Alliance and the Horde said enough was enough; the Lich King had terrorized their homelands for the last time. The combined fleets sailed on Northrend, and piece by piece, eradicated the Scourge. By the end of it all the Lich King was trapped in his Citadel. He would never leave again. He had fallen. So now Valgrad sees his home in ruins and desolation, but freed. All he can say to himself in the end is thus: is this my redemption? Did I find my purpose? In the end, he does not think so. The Ashen Onslaught Coming Soon! The Beginning of the Verdict Coming Soon! Category:Archived Characters